


In Loving Memory

by AMMO121



Category: One Piece
Genre: Gen, Ghost Sabo, Kinda, Sabo joins the Whitebeard pirates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 16:11:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13685166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AMMO121/pseuds/AMMO121
Summary: The Whitebeards get more then they bargained for when Ace agrees to join them. Not that they mind.





	In Loving Memory

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ariririsu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariririsu/gifts).



> For the lovely Ari! I tried for time travel but ended up not quite there. Oops. I hope you like it!
> 
> Also, a million thanks to midnightluck for fixing this up and being her amazing self!

“You have to keep him now.” A very young, unfamiliar and – most of all – unexpected voice interrupted the Commanders’ meeting. Every head in the room turns towards Marco, who spins around and takes several quick steps back. Normally he wouldn't be so easily startled, but holy shit there aren't any kids on the ship and no one heard him come in. When he manages to right himself he finds a pair of blue eyes staring at him, unimpressed. He continues speaking, like he had every right to be there. “He's tried to kill you and all of Ace's best relationships start like that.”

Yeah, like that makes any sense.

“Oh?” was all that Whitebeard said, more amused and less alarmed then the situation really called for. 

“Yup! Ace is stupid like that.”

And then he's gone.

–

Ace does end up joining and Marco can't say he isn't glad. The guy’s all right. He has his own issues, but who doesn't? Time goes on, and he can almost forget about the kid, if it wasn't so freaking weird. But it's the Grand Line, and they've seen a lot of weird things on the Grand Line, so they do brush it off.

Marco is watching Ace slump over in another napping fit, causing two of their sisters to lunge forward to try and catch him. The fire devil fruit user is never going to hear the end of it from Hiern, but Tyrin might let him off the hook if he bribes her with stories later. Maybe. The Whitebeard pirates are a mostly male crew but their sisters are a lot more vicious as a result. That's what happens when you have over a hundred brothers.

“He's always done that,” Marco still jumps at the voice, but so do Hiern, Tyrin and almost everyone else within earshot. It's not every day that a kid appears out of thin air to scare the shit out of you. “Usually while he's eating or when he's comfortable. He must trust you.”

Marco stared down at kid, taking in his over-the-top clothes and hat and wonders if this is going to be a regular thing. “Um, thank...you?”

Blue eyes stare back up at him, too old for the face they belong to, before the kid speaks again. “Did you know you look like a pineapple?”

Then he's gone, and after a moment of shocked silence, laughter fills the deck of the Moby Dick once more.

Marco can already feel the headache forming, even as he laughs at Ace's confused mumbling as he begins waking up.

–

The kid in blue doesn't show up for several more months, not where Marco can see at least. He thinks that that might be it, another weird thing that the Grand Line has cooked up, behind them like yesterday’s waves.

Only, Marco’s just stepped out of his quarters to the sound of laughter and yelling, in time to watch two blurs race past his door, arms heavy with stolen food. He catches enough of a glimpse to be able to tell that one of the figures is significantly smaller than the other.

He sighs, because he can hear Thatch yelling from the kitchen, and turns to follow Ace and the boy. He should probably keep them from sinking the ship.

He finds them hold up in one of the many storage rooms, and they don't even bother to stop their eating when he opens the door. He's not sure if he should be insulted that they don't count him as a threat. He decides not to dwell on it for long. “Thatch is going to kill you one of these days,yoi.”

“He'll have to catch me first.” Ace boasted behind a mouthful of meat. The kid was laughing and nodding his head.

Marco shook his head at them, sparing a thought to the way Ace says 'me' instead of 'us'.

–

As far as summer islands go, this is one of Marco’s favorites in this part of the Grand Line. It was one of the first he traveled to with Pops, and he can still remember his first fireworks show as a member of the Whitebeard pirates. The name of it was simple and rolled off the tongue and Marco will admit to a little bit of excitement. He doesn't show it, but he knows by the smirks thrown his way that he isn't doing a good job of hiding it either.

“Wow!” The young spirit boy whispered in amazement at the festival. “We never had anything like this in Foosha village.”

Marco - having been ditched by his brothers and left to wander until the firework show in a couple hours, when they’ll all meet up to watch it together - follows behind the kid. He doesn’t have anything better to do, honestly, and he was just strolling through the stalls before the kid appeared behind him. He seems fond of startling Marco like that. Now he’s walking from stall to stall with company, which is a little better, even if said company may or may not be a spirit. He’s almost positive the brat isn’t just a figment of his imagination, not when other people can also see him. 

Speaking of which. “Isn’t that the village Ace is from?” 

The kid tilts his head back at an uncomfortable-looking angle and blinks up at him. “Well, kinda. We mostly lived in the forest, but sometimes if we couldn’t find any animals to hunt or we needed new clothes, we’d go visit Foosha. Ace had a crush on Makino and it was funny to watch.” 

“Okay,” Marco accepted. Whether this means that Ace has always had a little ghost following him around or that Ace actually did know this kid before… well before what, he didn’t know. It's pretty obvious that Ace can't see the kid, and that he's the only one of the Whitebeards that can't. Marco doesn't know what to make of the whole situation, so he asks. “So, are you a ghost, yoi?” 

Big blue eyes blink at him again, head not moving - and Marco’s starting to feel the neck pain for him - before a big smile spreads across his face. “Nah.” 

Marco sighs. Honestly, it’s like talking to his brothers. “Can I at least get a name? If you plan to stick around, yoi.” 

“Oh, I’m Sabo, mister Chicken Man.”

Marco poked the brat - Sabo - in the forehead, making him overbalance and fall on his ass with a grunt. “It’s Marco, yoi.” 

Sabo glares up at him. “Whatever you say, Chicken Man.”

He must look insane, talking to thin air, but it’s no different than when he talks to any of his brothers. Speaking of which. “The fireworks are going to start soon; we should head back.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He picks himself up, brushing off imaginary dust from his top hat before putting it back on his head. “Let’s go.”

\--

The thumping won’t stop. He ignores it, has been for the past five minutes, but that hasn’t stopped the blond brat. 

He knows how this goes. He’s an older brother, he’s dealt with this before. Acknowledging it will only make it worse. He must remain strong. 

His pen scratches across the parchment, and he tries to read the report for the third time. He doesn’t have any more luck this time, sadly. 

Thunk. A pause. Thunk. Thunk. Pause. Thunkthunkthunkthunk-.

Marco slides one of the many binders that are laying on the table under Sabo’s forehead. The next hit doesn’t make quite as loud a noise and Sabo pauses.

“I'm soooooo bored.” It’s muffled, but more than loud enough to be heard. “You’re boring!”

Marco ignores the way he drags the last word out, and any insult. Because, yeah, paperwork isn't very fun. “Why don't you go follow Ace around like you usually do?” 

 

“He’s sparring with Huien,” He leans his head against one hand while the other flips open the binder. “And I can’t get near him when he uses his Devil Fruit.”

Marco wants to ask why, but he doesn't. It would probably just get him another cryptic non-answer. The damn kid is good at those. 

After finally managing to finish the page he was on, he turns to look at the kid. “You could help me with these, yoi.”

Sabo made a face at that, but then seems to think about it for a moment. “You have any maps?”

Marco looks info hopeful blue eyes before nodding. “Yeah, some that have our islands marked down, if you think you'd be interested in that?” 

Sabo makes grabby motions with his hands, and Marco huffs a laugh before handing over the goods. 

\--

“Where do you go when you’re not here?” It’s Thatch that finally asks the important question. The Moby Dick is sailing through the Grand Line and the weather is more than perfect - which means it’s probably going to change any minute - and everyone is sluggish in the sun. It’s perfect for Ace and Marco, who enjoy the intense heat. Everyone was lazing about the ship, and the commanders and a few others are gathered out on deck with Pops. Thatch is currently fanning himself with a newspaper. 

Sabo - who’s sitting on Whitebeard’s shoulder like it’s an everyday occurrence - looks down at them, taking a break from trying to pry stories from Pops. “Oh, I go and hang out with Luffy’s crew mostly.”

“Luffy? Like Ace’s younger brother?”

“Yup! They’re really fun!” His feet hit Pops’ chest with every swing of his legs. His smile threatens to split this face in half, obviously very proud. “Luffy’s lucky to have such good people watching his back. I’m happy for him.”

There’s a flicker of… of something, a little like sadness and a lot like regret across Sabo’s face. It’s only for the briefest of moments, and in the blink of an eye it’s gone. 

“How old are you?” And Marco will one day run out of questions to ask the blond kid, but today is not it. He’ll also learn to keep his mouth shut, but that is obviously not happening now. 

Sabo pauses for a moment, and ever his legs still. “I guess I was about ten, but I’d be twenty...one now? I guess, something along those lines.”

There's a long moment of subdued silence from the Whitebeard pirates at that. Luckily Pops was nearly impossible to phase and had a habit of knowing exactly what to say. (Maybe it came with age? Or maybe it was because of the countless children.)

“Sabo,” The giant man gently lifts the boy and moves him to his lapso that he was facing the captain. “Would you join my crew and become my son?”

\--

The night is still around Marco, and the peace makes every breath easier than the last. These past few weeks had just enough chaos and battles to not seem too peaceful, but not overly enough that anyone was injured or exhausted. They even manage to collect quite the treasure from the last skirmish. None of them could figure out what would come of it, but imagine! Thatch with a devil fruit! The thought of it is enough to have him smiling fondly and fighting back a migraine. 

He’s deep inside his own thought, watching the moonlight reflect of the water, when - between one breath and the next - a very familiar voice screams out. 

Marco, objectively, knows that Sabo isn’t alive. It’s something that he and all of his family as a whole try not to think too much about. It matters little, even knowing that, when he hears his newest and youngest brother scream in alarm and rage. 

In the years that the kid has been hanging around on and off, Marco and honestly say that he’s rarely seen him be anything besides a happy little shit. 

The danger to Sabo's person may be minimal, but the fear that grips Marco in that moment was anything but. 

He pushes off the ship's railing and takes off in direction of the scream, fear tightening in his chest. 

\--

It’s two days later, Thatch is laying in a coma, Ace is gone and Marco can’t get the image of Sabo bursting into… into nothing, out of his head. One second he’s sending Teach flying and the next it’s like he’s exploded into himself. 

Normally he’s just… not there one second. Marco’s gotten quite used to him running away from scolding by simply not being there between one word and the next. 

It’s not exactly what happened, but he felt very much like he lost four brothers in a matter of seconds. 

Ace didn’t waste much time, staying just long enough for Thatch to come stable before taking off after the Teach.

Marco was stuck between trying to stop him like Pops had and offering all the help he could. 

In the days, weeks, and months that follow, none of them see hide nor hair of their youngest brother.  
\--

The news of Ace’s capture and future execution is just another kick to the gut. There’s not a soul aboard who didn’t want to storm Impel Down right this second. But. But. They have to wait, Pops is right. If they have any chance at saving Ace, then they have to make their move at the right moment. 

“Sabo still hasn’t come back.” Marco should probably sit down, because that’s what people do when visiting family in a medical ward. “But I’m sure he’s fine.”

A lie, but Thatch doesn’t know that. 

“We’ll save Ace and then drag Sabo back from wherever he’s disappeared off to.” 

It’s a promise, strong and fragile all at once. 

And maybe it was made more for Marco’s benefit, but Thatch doesn’t need to know that either. 

\--

Marco watches his family fall one by one around him. He wants to scream, has wanted to scream since that night on the Moby Dick but it all gets lodged in his throat, choking him and keeping him from calling out for Ace, for Luffy, as that bastard goes for one final swing. 

And then… and then Sabo is there. Standing between the brothers and the Admiral’s deadly attack.

Marco manages to lung forward helplessly, like that would make the distance shorten enough to save his little brother. 

When the fist hits, it's like a bomb went off. Akainu’s fist bounces off an invisible force field and a blinding white light exploded outwards with a defining bang.

And there's Sabo, turning towards the brothers and...and Marco can see Ace mouth Sabo’s name, staring right at him. 

Ace can see him. 

And by the tears pouring down Straw hat’s face, so can he. 

Marco takes a step closer, and he can almost make out what Sabo is saying to the two of them, when the kid turns to him. 

And he smiles, and his lips didn't move, but Marco hears him anyway. 

“Thank you.” 

There's another, less intense flash, this time coming from within Sabo, and for a second Marco could have sworn he saw flames, before - in a puff of dust and terrifying finality - Sabo is no more.

And the scream finally rips from his throat.


End file.
